


'Tis the Season

by Coffee_Reveries, nargleinafez



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas at Hogwarts, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21908335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coffee_Reveries/pseuds/Coffee_Reveries, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nargleinafez/pseuds/nargleinafez
Summary: December 1998: The war was over, but in their hearts, it still raged on. Two friends seek comfort and hope in one another during Christmas but without expecting it, they find love as well.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 9
Kudos: 76
Collections: Harmony Advent Collection 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**{'Tis the Season}**

_ Part One _

* * *

These days, just a single word was enough to make Head Girl Hermione Granger bolt and run for hiding, the memories of their time of war still fresh in her memories, still fresh everywhere she looked in this castle. Hogwarts School had once been her home, perhaps more so than the one she lived in with her parents. Now, however, all it reminded her of was death, destruction, walls, and wizards tumbling down. The cacophony of spells being cast, screams, cries, the thumping of her heartbeat… It all still echoed in her ears. So once again she ran out of Charms class, cold perspiration clamming her hands, her forehead, her heart beating fast as though it would come ripping out of her chest, and the fear, the dread that they would catch her again, torture her--the fear that they would kill Harry, and Ron and...

  
  


“ _ Padma, take cover! _ ” Hermione screamed with all she had in the hallways, not quite here in the present and not quite there on the eve of May 2nd either.

  
  


She opened her eyes as she crouched down behind a pillar, slowly regaining her breath. It wasn’t the eyes of her fellow schoolmates in a full-on battle mode that she saw, but frightened 2nd years that had been heading for Herbology class staring back at her with a mixture of fear and confusion. Still, she panted and felt she might die, hot tears streaming down her face, sobbing and hiccuping like a desperate child.

  
  


Padma Patil appeared from inside one of the classrooms as she heard her name being shouted out. The Ravenclaw pulled out her wand as she walked into the hallway, her reflexes sharp and prepared for battle. It was what they had trained to do,  _ had _ to do in order to survive. Padma’s face changed from one of alertness to relief as she scanned the area and spotted Hermione by the pillar. She slipped her wand back in the pocket of her school robes and slid down to the floor, sitting beside her.

  
  


“It’s all over, Hermione… We came out alive, it’s nearly Christmas and we’ll be off from school tomorrow.” She said in a comforting tone, wrapping an arm around Hermione’s shoulder and holding her for some time, helping her to come back to reality,  _ this _ quite tragic reality, all of them little more than children, children soldiers who had suffered and fought a great deal.

  
  


“ _ I d--don’t know that I can keep d-doing th-this… _ ” Hermione whispered in between sobs.

  
  


“I’m so sorry, Hermione… I’m so very sorry…” Padma whispered, unable to say anything else because, to be honest, nothing and no one had prepared them for this, for what came after the battle, after the war, for what would happen to their hearts and their minds. Life in this castle had become almost too hard to live.

  
  


…

  
  


He kept on going like a machine. A couple of stunning spells, duck, a hex, and then dodge. He rolled and did a series of complex wand movements that destroyed the mechanical dummies into bits and smithereens. It was a beautiful display of skill, he could vaguely hear applause outside. A low signal alarmed, indicating that he had just passed this round. He relaxed as the entire training room shifted and spun like there was a mini sandstorm. The environmentally-controlled room was changing to the next round. There were five rounds to this course and the first three were incredibly easy but of course, he's Harry Potter, the  _ Great Hero _ who defeated Lord Voldemort several months ago. One would wonder why he would even bother to go through Auror training in the Academy when the Minister was only too eager to give him a badge. Harry didn't want a shortcut. He wanted to train just like  _ everyone else _ , to feel a little bit of  _ normal _ . Normal was a rare word, a rare feeling. 

  
  


A siren sounded after a moment and the room had fully turned into a gloomier setting of muddy trenches. His sense of smell was suddenly attacked by something metallic, like iron,  _ like blood _ . He raised his wand in position as he anticipated. Segment by segment bodies appeared all over the trench. Harry looked around, it had looked realistic, and he nearly felt the bile rise when he thought one of the bodies had looked like Fred Weasley. A whistle distracted him, another signal that indicated that the fourth round has started. He followed the maze of the trench, the sludge of the mud slowing his steps. This setting was darker and somehow he knew this was going to be more psychological than physical. 

  
  


Harry continued and then suddenly  _ bang!  _ A huge explosion shot him away and he landed badly on his back into a puddle of mud. There was a sudden ringing in his ears and the pain receptors all over his body screamed. He painfully brought himself back to a standing position. Something lit from above and when he looked up, horror dawn on his face as the Dark Mark corrupted the artificial skies. His left hand touched the slightly faded scar on his forehead, expecting it to burn but it didn't and that was the only indication that this wasn't real. He'd forgotten for a second that he was participating in a graded drill.

  
  


Harry marched on as simulated 'Death Eaters' appeared, attacking him with the familiar hexes and even with the Unforgivable Curses. By instinct and from numerous experiences he managed to successfully defeat them, the thrill of the battle consuming him. He felt himself falter in steps but he continued, nevermind that rising suffocated feeling. This course hit too close to home. It was repeating the images of the past year, of the war, in his head. 

  
  


_ "This is only training, Harry. It's over. He's not coming back." _ He told himself, finally finishing off the Death Eaters. They had greatly dissolved into dust. Harry waited for the signal but it seemed like this round wasn't over. There was a sudden breeze and then a pop, in front of him stood a broken desk. Two of its drawers were gone but one remained locked. 

  
  


" _ Alohomora, _ " He tapped the lock with his wand and then the drawer opened. He had known what this was and after encountering such creatures several times this was going to be a piece of cake. He looked on as something black and almost specter-like shot out of the desk. He was preparing to say the spell, already expecting the boggart to turn into a Dementor as usual but… 

  
  


"No!" His wand clattered to the ground as he felt himself freeze. Suddenly everything had gone still while he felt like the world came crashing down on him like angry waves. "No… no...no…" He couldn't breathe. He gasped for air but he was drowning in the feeling. There was a cold clammy hand squeezing his lungs and his heart. He heard a thud and realized it was himself. Harry fell, knees down, his entire body shaking. He wanted to get his wand back but it was too close to the image and he couldn't, he didn't want to get close to it.

  
  


" _ Make it stop _ !" His mind screamed as he clutched at the muddy ground. He couldn't breathe, he was struggling. There were now black spots within his vision and his head felt lighter. 

  
  


"Make it stop… make it stop…!" He unknowingly said the words out loud and suddenly everything stopped. The room went back to normal, its walls entirely white. There was a glass encasement that separated the course from the audience. Harry hurriedly picked his wand up, tucking it in his robes and stood. A feeling of shame washed over him as he saw a glimpse of his fellow trainees' faces. They were staring at him pitifully while they inaudibly discussed what they had just witnessed. Ron had a crestfallen look on his face and he looked like he was conveying something to him but Harry only shook his head. It was a great disappointment to see their hero fail. 

  
  


"Everyone dismissed. See you all after the holidays." The gruff voice of their instructor announced abruptly, already feeling an awkward tension in the room. The crowd in the room dispersed so easily. 

  
  


Harry waited for everyone to leave, even ignoring Ron's invitation for a pint to 'get his mind off things'. He brought himself to one of the shower stalls in the locker room and let the warm water cascade down his body. He cleaned himself carefully as if the blood and the mud that had caked him were real. He wanted to erase the horrors and memories. He wanted to beat himself up for letting a simple  _ boggart _ get to him. __

  
  


Harry had erroneously convinced himself that it would get easier as time flew by but he didn't want to keep on lying to himself on how badly he coped with everything after the war. His scars, both visible and invisible, were barely healed. It will continue to haunt him day and night. He sighed as he slowly came to the realization that he needed to see someone, that he needed to see _ her. _ Because it's the only thing that would give him peace.

  
  


...

  
  


By dinner time, news of Hermione’s panic attack had spread throughout the school and it was all everyone whispered about in the corridors and common rooms of Hogwarts. In order to avoid the looks of pity or mockery, Hermione decided to sneak into the kitchen, the elves well familiar with her already, and fix herself a plate carrying it the long way down to the lake, the Scottish sun beginning to set on the horizon. She pulled out the same beaded blue purse she used to carry everything in during the war from inside her robe’s pocket and pulled a camping chair from out of it, the ground completely covered in the purest of snows. The air was cold and her food had quickly gone cold too, but Hermione didn’t mind. Eating had become more a chore than a pleasure, even if the school elves had especially outdone themselves this Christmas season.

  
  


What she really was was tired. Her unresolved issues with all the traumas experienced during their year on the run and in battle; the losses of so many dear friends and schoolmates; the loss of her family… It was all taking its toll.

  
  


Despite everything, Hermione still managed to be her studious and perfectionist self, her marks among the highest. Perhaps that was why most professors seemed to turn a blind eye to the fact that she had to escape their classes so often. Hell, Madam Pomfrey couldn't bear to deal with her constantly in the infirmary anymore. And then there was also the matter of being Head Girl… Though Hermione appreciated having the privacy of her own bed quarters, there was little else that enthused her about her given role. To be perfectly honest, being Head Girl was bloody exhausting, always having to resolve conflicts, always having to be the perfect example… Perhaps at age fifteen, it had seemed like the best thing that could happen to her in school, the natural course for her academic prowess and overall good behavior. However, she was a different witch now and it was all very much a burden she just wasn’t handling well. Hermione could easily count the number of schoolmates who could be much better Head Girls than her: Ginny Weasley, Susan Bones, even Padma Patil herself. Hermione despised the mere thought of failing at something, so it was torture how she was just about doing so as Head Girl but also as being herself this school year. Hermione was strong but she wasn't feeling strong; Hermione was put together, but she was most definitely  _ not _ put together…

  
  


Hermione’s eyes looked out to the spectacle that was the sunset over the lake, the pink and orange hues against violet skies reflecting against the snow and water. It was utterly magnificent. She ate while watching another day come to an end, her whole being appreciating the sunset, the silence, and the solitude, after such a terrible day. All she asked the universe for was a little bit of peace and a little bit of respite.

…

  
  


"Mr. Potter, just because you are able to apparate into Hogwarts, doesn't mean you should make a habit of it." Professor McGonagall stood by the entrance, an eyebrow raised knowingly. Harry nodded in understanding, hoping the Headmistress wouldn’t make such a fuss of it.

  
  


"Well, I suppose it’s not even worth asking why you’re… I’m afraid you're in great timing, Potter…” Harry furrowed his eyebrows and the older witch sighed deeply, a sadness shining in her eyes. “You'll have to be the one to ask  _ her _ ." 

  
  


“Where is she?” Harry looked at her with growing concern. 

  
  


"Miss Granger should be by the lake."

  
  


"Thank you, Professor." He replied as she accompanied him further inside the castle. They parted outside the Great Hall as McGonagall was still expected to address the students before the Christmas Holidays officially began. Harry continued forward, taking the route that would lead him faster to Hermione’s usual spot by the Black Lake.

  
  


" _ Harry?! _ " Someone called out to him. Harry halted upon hearing the familiar voice. He turned around and came face to face with his redheaded former girlfriend, dressed in her winter school robes, ginger hair braided neatly behind her. Ginny, had her trunk beside her, probably leaving with the train tonight to spend Christmas at the Burrow. "You're here." There was a hopeful tone in her voice, a smile easing its way on to her pretty features. He didn’t want to deal with this right now, with Ginny, it was awkward and they had become utterly hopeless as a couple. The discomfort only made Harry look away, tapping a foot impatiently against the stone floor. He wanted to leave before the awkwardness would become more palpable.

  
  


Ginny wasn’t oblivious to his reaction, reading his silence and avoidance of her as a rebuff. Plain sadness then shone on her face. Harry hated the thought of having soured her Christmas, she didn’t deserve this ill treatment, but at the same time Harry didn’t know how else to be. He remembered Ron’s words to him from months ago:  _ don’t let her get any ideas or hopes, mate. As a brother I’d be forced to kill you if she got more hurt. _ "I reckon it was foolish of me to hope." Her tone switched to a bitter one when she continued, "I can only assume you're here for  _ her. _ "

  
  


Harry sighed deeply but still didn’t look at her. He couldn’t muster a single response, he hadn’t the energy to. The only certainty he had was that he needed to see his best friend  _ urgently. _

  
  


"If you have nothing to say then I guess I have nothing as well." She said, finally. Harry walked away from her, his steps growing faster and faster as he went until he ran down his school’s corridors, his seeker reflexes helping him swerve from the students he passed, sharp green eyes desperately seeking her form.

  
  


…

  
  


It had grown darker outside and it looked like everyone had left for the holidays already. Hermione thought it a mistake to spend Christmas within the walls of Hogwarts. A few weeks ago it had seemed like a good idea to spend one last Christmas here, this entire school year seeming like a nostalgic farewell to the significant chunk of her lifetime she had spent within this castle and it’s magnificent and harsh Scottish grounds. Now, everything seemed and felt like the complete opposite, especially when the ghosts of war continued to haunt her. Nostalgia had made way for a living nightmare with each wintery day that passed. Wearily, she gathered her things and decided to return inside.

  
  


Hermione walked through the courtyard and then entered the castle. She was about to make a right turn into a corridor that would lead her to her Head Girl living quarters when someone suddenly made her stop in her tracks. Her breath hitched as her eyes registered the very presence of her best friend Harry a few feet away from her.

  
  


Out of nowhere her feet weighed down as if they were made of leed and she found herself frozen in place, heart beating ever fast but unable to make a single movement forward. Harry didn’t move either. She supposed it must be due to shock… To be quite honest it had been months since they’d seen each other, three to be exact, though it wasn’t for the lack of trying. She and Harry lived completely separate lives now, away from one another, and words couldn’t describe just how much she missed having him around. 

  
  


Hermione scanned him from head to toe, his clothes scruffily worn, as though he’d haphazardly thrown them on in a hurry. His hair, though slightly longer than she remembered were still his signature unkempt rebellious locks and then his eyes, those brilliant, mesmerizing emeralds… She couldn’t pinpoint when exactly they began to take her breath away. People say  _ 'the eyes are the window to the soul' _ and it was in fact true when it came to her best friend, because in that very moment, Hermione saw in them the inner turmoils, the inner battles that also thrummed inside her. In that moment she found herself breathlessly running towards him. It seemed to have awakened him because Harry warmly welcomed her into his arms, holding her tight against his chest. Hermione clung to him for dear life. She could smell the woodsy scent of Sandalwood and freshly-mown grass that always accompanied him since his boyhood. Harry’s scent comforted her, created a memory. Harry’s scent brought her straight home.

  
  


_He's here._ _He’s here. He’s here!_ Those words echoed in her mind as they continued to hold on to one another, nevermind the curious glances of students that passed them by, or the roaring sound of cheers floating in from the Great Hall. In that moment, Hermione felt the solace she had never really felt in the past few months. 

  
  


One look at his best friend and Harry knew. He was unable to move but she ran towards him and he received her wholeheartedly. Her signature scent of Vanilla invaded his nostrils, his whole being finding comfort in the familiarity of her. He felt the way she clung to him, he felt the way her body convulsed into sobs. Sobs that shot straight to his heart. 

  
  


Harry then remembered what he had seen back in the Auror Academy:  _ the boggart.  _ Amazing how such creatures could easily warp into one's fears, and terribly ironic how a chain of events could change one's world, one's perspective. His fear was always fear itself, but today it had changed. He closed his eyes as the memory of his obstacle drill flashed. The memory of the boggart turning into a dead Hermione Granger. The mere memory of it made him shiver, his heart beat dangerously fast. He automatically loosened his grip on her and brought her face to angle levelly with his. The tears streaming down her reddened cheeks killed him inside but somehow he understood. Harry knew that he was never alone. He knew why he came here to see her. He knew he wasn't the only one feeling all of  _ this _ .

  
  


"You're here. You're here. You're alive. Thank Merlin, you're alive." He said as he wiped her tears, though as he did that he also felt tears of his own rolling down, the growing heaviness of a while ago beginning to slowly evaporate. 

  
  


"Harry, what's wrong?" She asked as she placed a hand on his cheek. He relished the softness of her skin pressing softly against his, a certain type of heat he'd never really felt before spreading over him.

  
  


"I should be asking you the same thing..." His voice sounded huskier than Hermione ever remembered and it chilled her bones. 

  
  


"I-” she started, hesitating. “N-not here.." She looked around. "Let's go to my room, it's more private." Her hand took his and Harry let her lead him to the Head Girl's living quarters. 

  
  


He'd never really been to this part of the castle. This was on a different smaller tower which had been divided into two separate wings. The left wing was the Head Boy's. Harry didn't realise he had blanked out until he felt warmth from the fireplace across him and the feeling of Hermione tugging his coat. 

  
  


"You'll be more comfortable this way." She explained. She was now dressed casually in a lavender cashmere sweater and blue jeans. He took his scarf and coat off and she placed it neatly on the red velvet sofa. 

  
  


"Over here." She proceeded to sit cross-legged on the carpeted floor, in front of the roaring fire. She patted the space on her right. He did as she requested. Immediately, she moved closer to him and rested her chin on his shoulder. He rested his on her head, the smell of Vanilla now more intoxicating and relaxing, and then slung his left arm around her waist. 

  
  


"I'm so glad you're here." She whispered, there was a little flutter in her chest. 

  
  


"I needed to be here." He replied. "What happened, Hermione?" He felt her stiffen at his question. 

  
  


Hermione slightly moved away and then turned her head to look at him. "Everything happened, Harry.  _ The war happened _ . Even though it's over... It's all too much and I feel like I don't know anything anymore. It's something I can't just find in the books. It's all too overwhelming. The fact that it's out of my control,  _ I hate it _ . I hate feeling this way. I hate that I had lost a fragment of myself in the war and that I still keep on trying to look for it even though it's forever gone. It hurts, Harry. It damn hurts too much. I don't know what I was thinking when I returned here. Every inch of this place is a reminder. I tried to ignore, I tried to suppress everything but eventually, it got through me. These past few days I just felt so alone. I don't think anyone else could understand and I didn't want to burden anyone else..." Her face was struck with tears again. "When I saw you in that corridor, I felt like I could breathe again and I guess, whatever I'm feeling, you're also feeling the same thing."

  
  


He grew silent as he gathered in his thoughts. "It's been horrible, Hermione. I was a breakable ready to snap and I did today in front of everyone. It was embarrassing at least but that wasn't what bothered me. What bothered me is that I saw you dead and even though it wasn't real, a part of me deemed it possible. It's ridiculous isn't it?" He gave a low and bitter laugh." The way even though he's dead, he can still haunt us. How does one even make it through? I was grasping at straws and in the midst of all the confusion, I just had to see you.  _ I don't know why _ . Hermione, nothing makes sense to me anymore but somehow you do." 

  
  


She let his words sink in and a soft smile crept across her lovely features, warm, beautiful, pain-filled brown eyes staring back at him. Her smile warmed him, gave him a little bit of hope. He’d been right to come here. 

  
  


Harry wished to say more but Hermione began to yawn. It seemed to be contagious because a split second later he was doing the same. The tiredness, both physical and emotional, has already overpowered them. They both stared at the fire now, basking in its warmth and in each other's presence. They both sighed and then slowly drifted off to sleep together.


	2. Chapter 2

_ Part Two _

* * *

Harry awoke with Hermione’s nimble fingers playing with the collar of his cotton shirt, her head pillowed against his shoulder as they lay on the fluffy rug in front of her stone fireplace. The first rays of sunshine of the day began to stream in through the curtains and as he slowly turned his head, his nose unintentionally got buried in her golden-brown head of curls. The scent of honey and chamomile from her favorite shampoo filled his nostrils, he didn’t care if it would be considered bad taste to smell a girl’s, his best friend’s, hair. Hermione’s was a scent that Harry had become reminiscent of  _ home. _ It was the scent of his most delicious and happy embraces; it was the scent of  _ hellos _ and  _ see you again laters. _ Hermione’s was the scent of friendship and love, one that despite all odds gave him strength, even in their darkest days of war and living in that blasted tent. There was no scent like  _ home. _

  
  


Hermione noticed what he was doing and cheek still pressed against his shoulder curved her neck upwards to look at him.

  
  


“You’re sniffing my hair…” A small blush crept upon Harry’s cheeks as he offered her a little smile.

  
  


“Your shampoo is nice…” Hermione shook her head softly, fingers still tinkering with his collar. She snuggled further into him, pressing her body against his side, reminiscent of a lazy cat.

  
  


“I’m tired of always being so sad and so _ bloody _ tired…” She admitted after a long moment, a small frown set upon her face. “Couldn’t we come with a switch in our brains, like a muggle light plug? Turn sadness off for a bit?”

  
  


“But then who would want to turn it off?”

  
  


“I know Harry, but sometimes even happiness becomes a bore. Sadness is necessary to make us appreciate happiness more… It’s what my granddad used to say, anyway, he wrote theatrical plays for a living.”

  
  


“ _ Really? _ ” Hermione nodded. “You hardly ever talk about your family.  _ Why _ ? An artistic granddad sounds quite interesting…” Harry trailed off, and Hermione felt his chest softly vibrate under her cheeks because of his laughter.

  
  


“What’s so funny?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

  
  


“Ron would probably say that this is just what two depressed barmy gits would talk about in the wee hours of Christmas Eve morning…” She couldn’t help but laugh as well, heartily, in a way she hadn’t in quite long. Ron’s absence among them was palpable, but at the same time, being with Harry, just the two of them, was doing Hermione a world of good. It was, in fact, a rarity for this sort of thing to happen.

  
  


“It is Christmas Eve, isn’t it? Time just flew on by…” She said with a sigh. “Time’s fast but apparently not as fast as I need it to be, though. I wonder, how long will it take for all of this hurt inside to go away?”

  
  


“‘Mione… What if we flipped that switch today?”

  
  


“ _ What? _ ”

  
  


“The sadness switch… What if we flipped it and made things happy? It’s Christmas Eve… Surely we can try to be a little happy for two days.” Hermione was quiet for a moment, before she suddenly sat up, untangling herself from Harry with that trademark businesslike expression of hers that always scared him a little bit.

  
  


“Merlin, Harry… I  _ think _ I just flipped it.” Her face lit up and so did her eyes. She had a smile on her face, a nice, big sincere one and there was a hint of laughter in her voice. Harry blinked for a moment, not quite believing her until she got up and tugged at his hand for him to get up with a drive that he hadn’t seen her with in a long time. Hermione laughed as she tried to pull him up with all her strength and all Harry could do was shake his head and grin, finding his best friend quite simply the portrait of a crazy, neurotic, bossy, genius, sentimental mess. Harry’s eyes locked with hers, a silly smile on her face a vision that made him laugh soundly, and loud. He felt his entire being become lighter, more energized even… Apparently he too had just flipped the switch.

  
  


“You’re just as crazy as Luna Lovegood sometimes, ‘Mione.” Hermione scoffed at his remark.

  
  


“Don’t be silly Harry, Luna is just as sane as I am.” He watched as she retrieved her bath towel and grabbed a change of warm outdoor clothing from her wardrobe, making her way to what he imagined was her private bathroom. “Get your lazy arse ready, Harry… We’ve got Christmas to celebrate and Hogsmeade to get to.”

  
  


“Eye, eye, captain Granger.” He responded. It was seconds later that Harry realized he hadn’t bothered bringing his toothbrush or a change of clothes. He’d need to improvise with the help of his wand.

  
  


...

  
  


They went on their way to Hogsmeade, crossing the fields of Hogwarts by foot, having chosen the longer path to the village. They could have ridden on the carriages pulled by thestrals, but none of them needed the sad reminder that they both had seen death already… Especially Hermione. Today, Christmas Eve, they should remain in their little bubble, their only definite plan being to  _ have fun _ . 

  
  


"I'm glad we did this, you know…” She sighed, her arm linked with his as they walked through the snow. “It's actually peaceful…” Harry hummed in agreement. “The carriages would be far too quick, we wouldn’t be able to just breathe and take everything in.”

  
  


Moments later, they reached the top of a hill. It wasn’t too high, but contrasted with the highland planes they’d been treading since the castle, everything white with snow. From where they stood they could see their beloved school on the horizon, standing proudly flanked by its towers. “There's something about the Christmas holidays that makes Hogwarts more magical…” Hermione said with an appreciative smile, thankful for their little stop as walking in the snow seemed to be quite tiring.

  
  


“I miss it here sometimes… You know, it was my first real home.” Hermione nodded, cuddling further into his side.

  
  


“It’s so pretty, I can almost forget what happened…" Hermione whispered sadly, only for him to hear, her arm hooked with Harry’s. They were almost at the entrance of the village, and that sad tone had returned to her voice.

  
  


"Oh, come off it, you! We agreed to flip the switch and be happy. We're supposed to enjoy today and tomorrow..." Harry replied, gently nudging her side with his elbow. He glanced at Hermione’s face and saw the spark of melancholia in her eyes, a frown setting on her features. It wouldn’t be fair to him to force this upon her either, so with a heavy sigh he asked: "Are you okay? We can go back if you want."

  
  


"No, definitely not… We’re not backing out! I intend to make this Christmas  _ better _ than the last one…" She remarked with a defiance that was quite admirable and that he knew must have taken a great amount of effort. She tugged him by the arm softly, towards their path, but her voice trailed and it didn't take much for their minds to be transported to the events of last Christmas. 

  
  


They’d both been under the influence of Polyjuice Potion then, walking the quiet streets of the picturesque village of Godric's Hollow. It was the first time in his adult life that Harry had visited his hometown, the place where he lived as an infant and where he tragically lost his parents. He'd never really expressed to Hermione how much it meant to him that she was there. It was during that solemn and peaceful moment in the graveyard that he suddenly realized just how important Hermione Granger was in his life, as a friend, as a lifesaver, but more importantly as his  _ rock. _ Perhaps unknowingly, Hermione had been what had kept all the pieces of him together, that supported him and gave him strength to go on with the madness that the war had been. She’d been an unfaltering presence and even in the most hopeless of moments, she’d been his beacon of light. A part of Harry dearly hoped he was her  _ rock _ as well.

  
  


Hermione slowly let go of him so that she could turn around to face him. He looked at her, noticing the lovely tinge of amber in her hazel brown eyes. Harry vowed silently to himself that he would do anything for her, that he’d make sure his best friend would never feel lonely anymore. Hermione didn't need to say all she'd been feeling lately out loud. Harry  _ knew _ . He knew her pain and her sadness, he knew it because he could  _ see _ her, had been able to  _ see _ her in that different light for a while now.

  
  


"Anyway," She she began to say as they both sobered up, changing the subject completely, "I think we should stop by Honeydukes first. I think I’m getting Ron's Christmas present from there. I actually haven't done my Christmas shopping list yet..." Hermione’s voice trailed off as they walked side by side. Harry glanced at her and watched as her cheeks reddened at the revelation. Not having a plan or a list was so against her nature… She felt silly.

  
  


"Hermione Granger! You mean you haven't bought me a present yet? I'm  _ insulted _ ! To think I spent days looking for yours." Harry said dramatically, feigning shock. He ended his little outburst with a deep pout. Hermione rolled her eyes in that typical way of hers.

"I'm sorry… I had other things on my mind. I'll make it up to you though. My present for you will be great.  _ If  _ I can find the right thing today, that is."

  
  


"Don’t worry, I was just kidding. You don't have to get me anything, you know? Besides, I haven't any gifts for the rest of our lot yet, anyway." He began to rub the back of his neck. "Honestly, your present is the only tick on my Christmas shopping list."

  
  


"Thank you." She smiled and held his forearm. "I have an idea."

  
  


"And what would that be?" He looked at her intriguingly. 

  
  


"Well, perhaps we could pick out the presents together, that way they'll be from the two of us. I think it might make things easier and we won't have to consume our limited time going over who should give what to whom..." She explained.

  
  


"You know, that's not a bad idea… Why not?" He replied as they officially entered Hogsmeade.

  
  


The small village with its old Tudor style houses and shops of charming thatched roofs and old oil lamps was just about crowded with last-minute Christmas shoppers. Lit candles floated above the tree branches even during the day and all shops were decked with holiday wreaths and boughs of holly. Families went about their business as did shop owners and some schoolmates who also hadn’t returned home for the holidays.

  
  


“Do you think we’ll be able to find ourselves a proper tree at Dogwood’s?” Came Hermione’s question as they made their way down the main street.

  
  


“Well, even if we don’t they’ve got to at least know where else we could get one… Come on.” He took his best friend’s hand as they picked up their pace and crossed the road to the aforementioned shop with its doors and windows painted a cheerful lime-green.

  
  


As soon as they entered their senses were assaulted with the strong scent of cinnamon and pine trees which grew proudly and magically inside the shop, that from the outside looked tiny, but was in reality magically enhanced. Harry immediately spotted a row of trees in the back and nudged Hermione who for a moment distracted herself with a lovely, fragrant orchid.

  
  


“There’s your answer, ‘Mi,” he pointed with a grin. Hermione’s eyes followed the direction of his finger and the pair went on to examine each one.

  
  


“Should we go big or small?” She asked him, truly indecisive as she examined each tree for imperfections.

  
  


Harry pondered for a long moment, imagining how a tree would fit and look in her Head Girl quarters. The ceiling was very high and space wasn’t really an issue, Hermione had her own seating area after all. His eyes began to scan the evergreens until a pine tree that seemed to him full and perfect caught his attention. She reached a bit above his own height, but that to him was a plus. As a boy he’d always wished to put the golden star up high… This year he was sure to finally make his seemingly silly boyhood dream a reality.

  
  


“It’s this one Hermione.” He announced to her with that look he got when his mind was set on something and nothing in the world would make him change his idea.

  
  


“You sure, Harry?” She asked him, scanning the tree with that perfectionist’s clinical eye of hers.

  
  


“Without a shadow of doubt.” Before Hermione could over-analyze any further he pulled her by the hand toward the ornate counter. “I’d like to pay for a Christmas pine tree, please.”

  
  


“Oh, wait Harry, shouldn’t we look for something to gift Neville while we’re here?” Harry wasn’t much of a gift giver and Herbology was not his forte. He turned to look at the clerk whose smile broadened.

  
  


“Mr. Longbottom has been a longtime client of our shop… If you’ll kindly allow this old man a suggestion of something that lately caught his eye…” Hermione’s eyes lit up and she nodded with vigor.

  
  


“Splendid, do show us, please!”

  
  


After they left Dogwood & Deathcap herbology store having cast a  _ reducio _ to make carrying their tree around more easily, and having bought a lovely magical gardening kit which seemed to be all the rage for Neville, they went about looking for gifts to give their other loved ones.

  
  


Hermione in a bookstore was always a bit of a challenge as she tended to get overly excited and spend a whole lot of time browsing becoming totally enamoured with titles that would please just about herself rather than the small list of readers she actually had to gift. Harry made her abandon the small stack of books she’d separated for her own pleasure and return them to their places for the time being, like a very patient father.

  
  


“You’ll have time to get those later.” Harry told her with a roll of his eyes, “focus on what Padma and Luna would like.”

  
  


“You’re no fun sometimes, Harry! I wonder if you’d like it if I cut you off in the quidditch supply store!” Harry chuckled as she went about returning the books to their respective places while muttering not-so-pleasant words about him under her breath.

  
  


Harry scanned Scrivenshaft’s quill and books store, trying hard to get in Luna’s head to spot something she would perhaps appreciate. It was then that he saw a beautiful dark purple covered journal with gold edges that boasted gold illustrations of the planets aligned and their orbits and moons. He thought it beautiful and just about perfect for her to carry around and make her notes.

  
  


“I think I’ve found the perfect thing for Padma,” Hermione told him as she sneaked up behind him. She waved a beautiful silver-tipped quill in front of him, laying elegantly in its box of royal-blue velvet. The plume was lovely and went from white to a silvery tone that could only come from an ostridge. Those types of quills were said to be especially comfortable for continuous writing and were a bit more expensive than regular quills. “So she can finally finish that novel of hers…” Hermione said with a smile. Her clever brown eyes landed on the journal in Harry’s hand and she gasped at its loveliness. “For Luna, I gather?” Harry nodded.

  
  


“Oh, Harry, she’ll love it!”

  
  


“Yeah, I think so too.”

  
  


As it turned out, they spent too much time at Scrivenshaft’s and then at Dervish and Banges’ for gifts to give George, Bill and Arthur Weasley. Afterward they entered the clothing shop and got Mrs. Weasley a dress they were certain she would like for special occasions, it was an ashes-of-roses color that would harmonize in a lovely way with her ginger hair. For Parvati Patil they bought a pretty embroidered handbag and for Ginny a fashionable green wool coat that would fit her elegantly, a fine replacement for the old black coat she’d been wearing since age fifteen. They enjoyed picking and deliberating on whether this person would love either item A or item B. Sometimes they’d argue for a while because Harry kept on suggesting the most expensive and ridiculous things, much to the annoyance of Hermione. He even nearly overdid his presents for his godson Teddy Lupin but she had successfully convinced him not to buy useless things for a baby that was not even a year old yet.

  
  


“Gifts don’t have to be expensive, Harry. As long as they’re meaningful, I’m sure the receiver would appreciate it. It’s the thought that counts.” She mildly reproached. Harry frowned at her comment and refrained from pointing out that Padma Patil’s quill and Ginny’s coat were among the most expensive items they’d bought so far. 

  
  


In the inner pocket of his coat was his carefully chosen present for Hermione. Harry had bought it on one rainy November day, while walking around Diagon Alley. He’d suddenly stopped in front of an antique Wizarding Jewelry store he never really noticed existed on Diagon Alley. What made him stop was the display: a sterling silver necklace with a small pocket watch-style pendant. Hermione was immediately the person he thought of when he saw the item, remembering her year of meddling with the old time-turner. Curiosity made him enter the establishment and talk to the owner who had carefully explained to him that the entire piece was Goblin-made and that the sapphire gemstones on the tip of each delicate clock handle was a piece of an even bigger one that used to be from Rowena Ravenclaw’s collection. The little sapphires were mythed to light up during the  _ right _ moments. Harry would’ve appreciated more information, but the owner was being rather vague about it and stubbornly chose against expounding more. In the end, that didn’t matter to Harry though, what mattered was that he thought to get it for his best friend. He thought that maybe for Christmas this year, he’d give her something she could wear and remember him by; not just the usual set of books he’d usually give. After asking for the price, which was really just a formality to him because no matter how much it cost he would get it for her, Harry immediately purchased it and had the owner put it in a pretty case tied with a lovely white satin ribbon. The necklace was one of the most expensive things Harry had ever purchased, but it was worth it. He couldn’t wait for her to see it!

  
  


“Now, our next stop? Honeydukes? I think I saw a pamphlet about their ‘cauldron-ful’ specials, I thought that should be a perfect gift for Ron.”

  
  


“Loads of food  _ and _ Ron Weasley is probably one of the greatest love stories ever told!” He joked with a chuckle, the two of them shared a humorous look as their eyes locked. “That really is the perfect gift idea for him.” Harry agreed.

“See, Harry? I knew this was going to be easy and fun!” She elbowed him lightly before leading the way towards the sweets shop. “If we hurry, we can still get to the Post Office and owl the presents on time.” It was then that an imaginary light bulb came alight on top of her head as Hermione finally had the grand insight for Harry’s gift that she’d been hoping for.

  
  


They spent about an hour seated on the wooden bench in front of the post office writing their Christmas letters and messages to each friend, attaching them to the appropriate gifts. Hermione asked Harry to kindly have each of the gifts sent while she went after one last item. Harry agreed, getting a strong inkling that she was off to get his own gift.

  
  


….

  
  


Hermione shivered as she opened the door and entered the warm and welcoming atmosphere of The Three Broomsticks. She and Harry decided to separate for a while and agreed to meet here after an hour. She had suggested it herself so that she could purchase her gift for him. A few hours ago she had been quite anxious over the fact that she didn’t know what to give him for Christmas but when she had mentioned owling their presents, the idea was suddenly so simple. Hermione knew that losing Hedwig had been one of the toughest moments of Harry’s life. However, she also knew that her best friend would eventually need a new one for his work correspondence and of course, to communicate more easily with her. 

  
  


After looking through several types of owls her eyes darted to one that was about medium in size. The owl was peacefully asleep in her cage and had white feathers that fondly reminded Hermione of the late Hedwig, though this little lovely was all her own, as her backside and wings were a lovely light shade of caramel, a few tiny specks of gray here and there. Hermione opened the door to her cage and the owl opened her small dark eyes. She didn’t seem fazed or startled, but rather, to Hermione’s surprise nuzzled her hand, hooting. Hermione smiled, immediately captivated by this sweet and utterly charming creature. With a certainty that this beautiful barn owl was perfect for Harry, she kindly asked the shopkeeper to have the owl discreetly delivered to Hogwarts. Hermione hoped with all her heart that Harry would appreciate her gift and that he would accept and grow to love this sweet animal just as he’d loved Hedwig.

As Hermione entered the Three Broomstick’s where they’d agreed to meet she looked around for Harry. She wasn't surprised that the pub was busy, it was after all, the holidays. Madam Rosmerta's special spiced mead that was only available this time of the year was always a seasonal hit with the patrons. She craned her neck to look for Harry amongst the crowd. It seemed like every nook and cranny of the old pub was filled with people. 

  
  


"Hermione! Over here!" She finally heard him call out. She turned around and saw Harry wave at her. He was seated at one of the booths and beside him was the familiar hulking figure of Hagrid who she hadn’t seen in at least a week.

  
  


"Hello Hagrid." She greeted the half-giant who was drinking deeply from a huge tankard, nearly the size of a pitcher. 

  
  


"Hermione! Alrigh'? Yeh havin' a great time?" Hagrid finally spoke after putting down the drink. 

  
  


"I'm fine. Enjoying the company." She glanced at Harry before she cozily sat beside him. 

  
  


"Hey," Harry smiled at her before gliding a mug. "Ordered your usual, hot butterbeer with a dash of cinnamon. Madam Rosmerta's charmed it for you. The place is pretty packed today and orders are taking time. Hope you don't mind."

  
  


"Not at all, thank you." She gladly received it. She took a sip, the wonderful blast of the sweet butterscotch with a hint of cinnamon invading her taste buds and warming her stomach. It was always a nice sensation to have hot butterbeer after a busy winter's day. "How'd you manage to find a table here? The whole pub's mad!" She put the drink down and looked around. She noticed how most of the crowd were wearing a shocking colour of orange. 

  
  


"Hagrid was already here with Professor Binns but the Professor left shortly after I arrived." He informed her. After seeing her confused looks over a group of middle-aged men wearing bright orange robes he explained. "Believe it or not, Chudley Cannons just beat Puddlemere United. Looks like they might win the league this season. Fans have been celebrating, Ron must be over the moon right now."

  
  


Hermione chuckled and shook her head, taking another sip from her mug. "Hah, seems miracles really do happen!” Harry couldn’t help but laugh himself at her remark. “I'll never understand the appeal of sports in general, though, muggle or magic."

  
  


"Someday I'll make you love Quidditch." He teased then noticed the foam residue on the corner of her mouth. 

  
  


"You can try but don't expect to–" Her words were cut short when Harry suddenly took one of the table napkins and wiped the corner of her mouth. 

  
  


"Sorry, I couldn't help it." He explained. 

  
  


"Thanks," She softly said, hoping that he didn't catch the heat on her cheeks when his hand made contact with her delicate skin. They looked at each other for a long moment. 

"'arry and Hermione…" Hagrid suddenly spoke, getting their attention. "Who knew, eh? The two of yeh."

  
  


They each gave him a confused look. 

  
  


"I like the Weasleys but I have ter tell yeh, always knew it's always goin' to be the two of yeh." Hagrid continued. It took them a moment before they realized the depth of their half-giant friend’s words, and to be honest it sounded quite flattering but neither of them were eager to negate what Hagrid was implying. It did, however, kind of plant a thought inside their heads. 

  
  


Hagrid continued to ramble on about the two of them until his voice slurred and his West country accent went thicker. With a loud  _ bang, _ he slumped himself down on top of the table and began to loudly snore.

  
  


"I think Hagrid's had enough of Madam Rosmerta's mead." Harry whispered in her ear, which made Hermione feel a shiver down her spine. 

  
  


"How are we supposed to take him to the castle grounds?" She asked, looking at the snoring Hagrid. 

  
  


"Would levitating him be too much?" Harry asked. 

  
  


She shook her head and took her wand out. “Best we leave now.”

  
  


“Alright but I have to go to Madam Rosmerta for the bottles I’ve ordered.” He replied.

  
  


“Whatever are those for?” She curiously asked.

  
  


“We can’t just end the day like this. Our Christmas Eve festivities aren’t over.” He smirked. There was a glint in his eyes. She shook her head again thinking about how silly he was right now but he only winked at her before turning around to approach the bar counter.


	3. Chapter 3

_ Part Three _

* * *

They were two laughing idiots when they arrived back to Hermione’s room after levitating the passed out Hagrid home, giggling because of the half-giant’s loud snores and because they were both a bit high on the butterbeer too.

  
  


“We need music!” Hermione announced as they entered her rooms. Her cheeks were crimson from the cold but there was a smile there and she looked absolutely radiant.

  
  


She hung her coat by the door and immediately went in search of her old muggle CDs hidden in a box somewhere deep inside her wardrobe. They were something she kept from her parents, a mix of old folk music albums, The Beatles and the Rolling Stones tunes, as well as Bob Dylan which her dad used to love. Then finally, there were the last two CDs in the box which contained the Christmas standards, sung by the likes of Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald and Dean Martin, among others. Hermione popped them inside the old music player she had charmed to work without electricity, the music beginning to float throughout the room, until all of a sudden it floated inside her heart. As she closed her eyes, for a moment, Hermione felt as though she were in the presence of her parents, their loving eyes on her as she swayed to the music.

  
  


Harry, tired from all their walking plopped onto the sofa, watching her with fascination. Hermione seemed to be in her own little world, a blissful one, and for that he had the universe to thank. As he watched her sway and twirl to the music, Harry realized he’d forgotten what happy Hermione looked like, and honestly, there were few things in the world more mesmerizing. His heart warmed at the sight of her. He smiled, slipping off his shoes, tempted to join her, the orange flames from the fireplace reflected beautifully over her face and hair.

  
  


He was eerily reminded of that time they danced in the tent, their lives shrouded with sadness and them both feeling so, so hopeless. Dancing together had changed things, in that moment, but also in many ways that Harry couldn’t quite put into words. He rose from the sofa and found himself gently taking her hand. Her lovely hazel eyes locked with his and without a single word he slid one of his hands around her waist and she in turn leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder.

  
  


They swayed and twirled by the fire, song after song after song without great attention to precise rhythm… Just holding one another, their bodies content to just move against one another in perfect synchronicity. For them it was enough.

  
  


He twirled her around and there was a smile on her face, it was a bit shy, but it was there and Harry swore he saw something in her eyes, a specific spark he’d never seen before then came a shudder of breath that was different from everything else. Hermione wrapped both her arms around his neck, her fingers burying into his silky raven hair, their chests glued together, her heart pounding against his.

  
  


They felt that same magical energy that had enveloped them in the tent envelop them now, though it seemed all the more stronger and irresistible. When her fingernails grazed ever so lightly over the delicate skin at the nape of his neck Harry shivered slightly. Hermione noticed and chuckled, cuddling into him. They never stopped swaying as his own hand grazed up her back until it cupped her cheek. Hermione had no choice but to look at him.

  
  


“What is this that happens between us?” He whispered to her, his eyes a mix of desperate and tender.

  
  


“ _ Oh, Harry… _ ” She whispered, so low he barely registered her words. Her eyes that had been locked with his suddenly traveled down to his lips. Harry wasn’t blind to the fact that her gaze lingered there. His heart beat impossibly fast in his chest, all of a sudden his skin was like fire beneath her touch and he simply could not resist his best friend… He kissed her.

  
  


At first it was a soft press of his lips against her own, a part of him afraid because he had crossed a very delicate boundary, entering completely uncharted waters for them.  _ Merlin _ , Hermione could very well slap him if she wanted to. But what surprised Harry was that she didn’t, she didn’t separate her lips from his, nor did she hit him. Instead, she returned his kiss, lips tentatively tasting and exploring one another.

  
  


They parted for air moments later, his eyes closed and his breathing shallow. Hermione watched Harry with wonder in her dark eyes, his eyelids fluttering open, his lips parted ever so slightly. Unable to control her own fiery urges, Hermione buried her fingers through his hair once more, feverishly pressing her chest with his, kissing him passionately, boldly, her tongue taunting him in a way he never imagined Hermione could taunt.

They became lost to the feel of each other. The way he caressed her covered hips, itching to touch the skin underneath the clothing. The way she dug her fingers on his raven locks and slightly pulled them. The pain made him shiver and it made him bolder by finally slipping a finger underneath her shirt. Heat spread all over her as his skin made contact with hers, suddenly itching for more. She slowed down then gently and lightly, took his lip between her teeth and tugged it. He groaned with want. The air around them so suddenly thick with euphoria.

It seemed endless until the fire cracked loud enough to break their bubble and for them to freeze like a deer caught in the headlights. Their eyes widened in shock and their faces all flustered. It seemed to take a while to realise the gravity of the situation. Neither didn’t quite know what to do next.

“I...I’m going to get some food in the kitchen.” She blurted out then bit her lip, which only made him stare at it more. He felt like he was already addicted to taste of her. He shook the thoughts from his head.

“Um, okay?” He mumbled weakly. 

“I’ll be back.” She quickly said then awkwardly left. He looked at her as she left the room, all confused. What the bloody hell just happened?

She was out of breath when she finally left her room, like she had just sprinted a couple of times. There were sirens in her head. She touched her lips with her hand.  _ Did she really just snog her best friend?  _ She began to analyse every and each detail. She wasn't surprised that it happened but she  _ was _ surprised that it  _ actually _ happened. She reckoned there where these subtle things, easy to ignore. In fact, after the war she knew things changed and that  _ he  _ was that person she couldn't stop thinking or worrying about. She thought it was just an automatic reaction, the past several years of worrying about him ingrained in her but without the visible threat, nothing has changed. It's a bit different though, something fluttering on her chest. There was something… burgeoning. She can't help but compare  _ the kiss _ to the one with Ron. She shook her head. No, she wasn't supposed to compare it because really, what had happened back in her room was simple and complex at the same time. It was unique. It was purely  _ magical _ . It didn't really need definition because she just  _ knew.  _

Now, the storm that is her feelings thundered all throughout her. She wanted to be fully, a hundred percent rational but the pull of insanity is just more tempting. Because it is indeed insane to want, to crave your best friend's kiss. Especially when it'll change everything. 

Harry leaned his forehead against the wall then slowly and softly banged it. He did that a couple of times to make sure he wasn't totally mental and that he was actually awake in real time and not suspended in some dream. He then started to burn his energy by pacing around the room. 

That wasn't an ordinary kiss. That wasn't something you do with your best friend. It wasn't something they forget about about and bring up randomly like 'Hey remember the time we snogged a couple of times? It was hot.'  _ No.  _ He thought about blaming it on the loneliness but he knew that was shite. Hermione Granger wasn't someone one would _ just snog _ because  _ they were lonely. _ She was more. __

Something has shifted like tectonic plates between them after the war and this, whatever is happening, whatever will happen are just the earthquake and its aftershock. This was literally shaking up his core and he thought of what this meant. He thought of what he actually wanted, it was something that had been plaguing these last few months. It wasn't a  _ what _ anymore, it was a  _ who _ . He now  _ knew _ what he wanted but what about her? Does she want it too? Could there be a possibility of more? Suddenly, he replayed the memory. He bit back a sound reaction. He loved kissing her and would want to do more, if she would consent to. He glanced at his watch and wondered if he should go after her but he then heard the door open again. 

"Harry, I-" She started but he had immediately interjected. He dreadfully anticipated a form of rejection but he would want to say a piece of his mind. 

"I wouldn't mind kissing you again, Hermione."

She paused and then bit her lip again, her whole body language on guard. It was infuriating because he wanted to bite that lip as well. She continued to look at him, her mind elsewhere, possibly weighing out pros and cons of snogging one's best friend again. Harry didn't have to overthink. 

"It was nice. Actually more than nice and I only want to repeat it. I feel like I could kiss you again and again and never get sick of it." He continued sheepishly, heat suffusing on his face. He then looked at her for a response.

The moment seemed to freeze until he saw her features relax. A smile spread at her face and his chest burst out when she replied,"Then why don't you?"

He nodded and walked towards her immediately. He cupped her face again, more confident than the first time. His green eyes met her hazel ones as he smoothed his thumb on her cheek and pulled her closer. He started by kissing her cheeks languidly then moved to the corners of her mouth. He could feel their heavy breaths and their heartbeats dancing in excitement. He teased her first by nibbling but he had felt her impatience when she moved her hands sensually from his lower back to up on his neck, the touch of her fingertips sending electrical shocks and prompting him. He angled his head a bit until his lips finally met hers again like a long awaited reunion. He tasted her all over again with a different meaning and a newer light. 

For Hermione, this was sweeter and calmer. It didn't seem frantic. Time was something they could ignore. She didn't want this to end. Twenty-four hours ago, her holiday prospects seemed grim but this man showed up and did a 180 degree and now she couldn't imagine the other entire outcome.

  
  


…

  
  


Later, when they had thoroughly acquainted their lips and tongues, the festivities that Harry promised officially started. Hermione's room was a bit bare of decor and there was only a simple solution. 

  
  


“Hermione, where do you want the Christmas tree? By the fireplace or by the big window?” She thought for a moment and then pointed to the corner between the fireplace and a large bookshelf. “Good choice,” said Harry, as he used his wand to return the tree to its natural height. The evergreen they bought at Hogsmeade was about Harry’s size, so perhaps a little too much just for the two of them. However, it had been the proudest and most beautiful one.

  
  


Harry had never decorated a tree for Christmas. For as long as he lived with the Dursleys, Aunt Petunia had been the one to decorate and trim the tree to perfection, but never had Harry or even Dudley been allowed to help. After that, his Christmases had been here at Hogwarts where everything seemed to magically fall into place. The idea of finally having his own Christmas, even if it was just him and Hermione, made him happy. Harry had chosen more than a handful of Christmas ornaments he thought were beautiful back in Hogsmeade and others he had Hermione transfigure, neverminding color palettes or themes--greens, magentas, silvers, reds and golds would enliven their tree. Hermione had picked a few as well, ceramic teddy bears, rocking horses, little drums, Father Christmas figurines and snowflakes. Hermione had insisted on ribbons as well, some gold and glittery, while others were the traditional Christmas plaid, which she was now cutting and tying into the elaborate bows. Finally, as per their agreement, she would create those beautiful gold and periwinkle lights of hers and the whole thing would glow.

Harry, a mixture of excited and anxious, started work on the tree, hanging balls and ornaments, careful to distribute them equally throughout the evergreen. The Christmas music playing from Hermione’s music player and the lit fire of the fireplace casting its warmth and shadows into her room. His heart raced as he turned to look at her, standing on the tip of her feet to hang a snowflake towards the top. Hermione’s cheeks were rosy and a small smile played at the corner of her lips--he thought she was beautiful, simply and so utterly beautiful.

  
  


“You’re staring again…” Harry scoffed and shook his head at her ways, but still he couldn’t help but spread the smile on his face. He was happier than he’d been in years.

  
  


“Just admiring your beauty…” His words gave her pause and then it was her turn to stare at him in return, though in her eyes were a mixture of shock and shyness.

  
  


“You’re just saying that because I just snogged you silly!” She finally exclaimed with a flourish, her cheeks reddening despite her witty remark. Harry laughed whole-heartedly and her brown eyes sparkled as she observed him.

  
  


“Can’t you just accept a compliment?”

  
  


“ _ Oh, _ but I did though… Snog you silly.” She pressed winking at him in a way that she had never done before, laughing herself. Hermione patted his shoulder in a friendly manner as she passed him, headed for the bathroom area.

  
  


“You’re bloody  _ mental _ , Hermione…” He muttered. Hermione heard him from where she was fixing her hair in the bathroom and responded with more laughter.

  
  


“Oh, bugger off Harry! Go get dressed so we won’t miss the banquet.” She ordered, and as  _ almost _ always, Harry Potter did as told.

  
  


… 

  
  


They entered the Great Hall which had one long table in the middle instead of four. The amount of students who decided to stay over the holidays could easily be counted. Hermione’s eyes noticed how almost all the students had gone home this year, which was understandable. The aftermaths of the war lingered in spirit and being with family on this festive season was more cheerful. Eventually, time would heal everything. 

  
  


Harry and Hermione approached the table, their hands entwined. There was no point to hide away what they'd newly discovered. The way it was making them feel so giddy allowed them to ignore the curious looks people were giving them as they did so.

  
  


" _ Ah _ , Mr. Potter, I see you've prolonged your visit here..." Headmistress McGonagall remarked with a twinkle in her eyes as she rose from her chair to greet them.

"I hope you don't mind, Professor. I didn’t know where else to celebrate..." He answered, hoping McGonagall wouldn’t be against it. He was, after all, no longer a student. She looked at him and then at Hermione, and then down to their entwined hands.

  
  


"Nonsense, Potter. The more the merrier and by the looks of it, your coming here had a good outcome..." She looked back at the both of them then smiled in a way that they’d never seen her smile before. Harry and Hermione both blushed profusely, before Harry tugged Hermione’s hand for them to follow the headmistress to take their seats. 

  
  


The entire set up reminded them of Professor Slughorn's famed dinners but only it was less Slytherin in decor and more Christmassy and cheerful. The magical ceiling above showed a serene sky with the moon slightly crowded with soft clouds and the animated snow falling without really landing. The entire hall seemed to be lit by colourful fairy lights instead of the usual floating candles, which only gave a beautiful shimmering effect. The table was a wide rectangular one, surrounded by mismatched chairs that seated the staff and dozens of students from different years and houses. They saw a slumped Hagrid who was on a further seat, being handed what looked like a Sobering potion by Professor Slughorn. Hagrid spotted them and waved happily at them. A few familiar faces from the DA greeted them as they look for their own seats. They continued to look around to appreciate the decor.

  
  


Where the podium was, stood the most gigantic Christmas tree they’ve ever seen on their entire years spent in this castle. It was decked with all the beautiful magical ornaments, there were even preserved snowflakes. The tree was also surrounded by colourful fairy lights. Suddenly, Professor Flitwick started marching to the front with several students. He carried his wand like a conductor’s baton and tapped it on the air. He cast a  _ Sonorus _ charm and announced, “Tonight’s festivities will start with a short musical arrangement by the Hogwarts choir.” He tapped his wand again and they began with their rendition of the traditional muggle song  _ ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’ _ .

  
  


“Hello Hermione, hello Harry! Fancy seeing you here, Harry. I thought you’d be with the Weasleys.” Luna Lovegood approached them.

  
  


“Hullo, Luna.” Harry greeted back. “I changed my mind and thought it best to spend it here…” Hermione gave him a smile as she leaned closer to him. This new  _ closeness _ of theirs did not escape Luna’s clever blue-eyes. She grinned in a knowing way, her eyes locking with Hermione’s in silent questioning, an eyebrow raised. Hermione shook her head a bit mouthing ‘later’. Harry looked at them with bemusement.

  
  


“I see… So eggnog? Professor Trewlaney spiked it a bit.” She nodded towards the carafe of eggnog set in the middle of the table.

  
  


“Err...maybe for dessert?” He replied.

  
  


“That sounds fair.” She answered as she sat across them. The three of them chose to listen to the rest of the choir’s setlist and when it was over, they got back into conversation as they waited for dinner. The headmistress rose from her seat again and the chatter faded. Everyone’s attention was on her.

  
  


“I would like to say a few words before we officially start our festive dinner,” she started. “In the last few years this castle and everyone in it went through dark and difficult times. Despite it all, we have proven that Hogwarts school remains strong and united within and outside these walls. The rebuilding couldn’t have been possible if it weren’t for everyone who gave their help and support. We may have lost quite a number of students, professors and loved ones but they will  _ always _ be remembered. It is because of them that our magnificent castle, this paragon of British wizardry and magic still stands. It gives me comfort that the legacy of Hogwarts, mine and I believe also  _ your _ home will continue on.nThank you to all of you who are present tonight and wishing you all a  _ Merry Christmas _ .” Those seemed to be the magic words as the dinner spread lavishly appeared on the table. It was the usual Christmas feast: fat, roast turkey, boiled potatoes, buttered beans, chipolatas and so much more that it looked too much for such a small party. Harry, Hermione, and Luna earnestly began piling their dinner plates.

  
  


…

  
  


“Bloody hell, I hope you got me a new pair of trousers for Christmas. I’m seriously stuffed I don’t think I could fit in my current ones. The house elves have outdone this feast, they deserve a raise. Could compete with Mrs. Weasley's cooking.” Harry announced as they entered Hermione’s room again. He held her by the waist and guided her. She had gone a bit tipsy from the eggnogs, as it turned out, Professor Trewlaney had spiked it way too much and she and Luna had enjoyed it way too much as well. He hoped Luna had made it to the Ravenclaw tower without any mishaps. 

  
  


Hermione moved away from him and twirled clumsily in front of the fire, laughing as she flopped down. Harry immediately kneeled down to help her. “You alright? Should I ask for a sobering potion from Professor Slughorn?”

  
  


“No, no, I’m fine. Just feeling a bit light and silly.” She shook her head then looked at him, releasing a sigh. The fire softly reflected on both their faces and despite the slight drunkenness on Hermione’s behalf, there was still something poignant and electrifying in the moment she suddenly grabbed the collar of his shirt and hungrily brought her lips to his. Shock still went through Harry. He still couldn't believe that the two of them were here and so much more than they ever were. Hermione’s lips drugged him, the taste of them even sweeter now as they contained the hint of eggnog and liquor.

  
  


They gasped for air. They’d both lost count of the number of times they had snogged today, each and every time still an amazing phenomenon. Knowing that it was quite late and their energy depleted Harry got up from the couch and offered her his hand. Hermione stared at it for a moment and blushed. Sure they had slept together before, such as yesterday when they’d passed out on the rug of the sitting area. There was, however, a significance so much more different and so much more intimate when it came to sharing a bed.  _ Couples _ shared beds. Hermione slipped her hand in his, never having felt so sure in her life, allowing him to gently pull her up and walk her to the bedroom area where a large four-poster occupied the center. Hermione pulled her light gray flannel pajamas from inside her drawers and slipped into the bathroom to change, making sure to brush her teeth just as any decent dentist’s daughter.

  
  


This Christmas had been brilliant, so much better and more wonderful than she could have anticipated, but still their absence in her life hung on her conscious and pulled at her mind and heart. Removing her parents’ memories was something she regretted every single day. Christmas was always so special in their home, even within such a small family. Her mother made the most delicious apple and cinnamon pie served with vanilla custard and her father always roasted ham. There’d always be music, at moments the CDs they’d play in the background and sing along to and then after dinner their singing together around the piano as her mum played beautifully, always a slight bit tipsy. Scented candles of vanilla and cinnamon would be lit around the house and of course there’d be mountains of gifts under their tree. Finally, at midnight they would walk along the dark streets of Fulham to the old church of All Saints where they’d watch the Christmas mass. If Hermione closed her eyes she could almost hear the church’s boy’s choir singing ‘O come all ye faithful’ and feel the heady scent of incense.

  
  


Hermione plopped down on the bed and Harry followed suit, he noticed something about her shifted, sadness having returned to her eyes.

  
  


"Hey," He whispered. 

  
  


"Hey," She echoed back. 

  
  


"Mission accomplished, this was better than last year's Christmas." He told her with a smile, moving closer. "Don’t get me wrong, last year was also special, despite the circumstances. I'm glad it was you who was with me in Godric's Hollow. I can't imagine being with anyone else." Hermione smiled, her eyes looking a bit teary. He gestured her to move even closer until she laid her head on his chest and his arms wrapped around her.

  
  


“It meant a lot to me Harry, to be there with you and to visit your mum and dad…” She trailed off, her breath shaky. He knew she was trying hard not to cry. “I just hope next Christmas I’ll be able to introduce you to my mum and dad. I miss them so much, Harry…” He nodded, not knowing quite what to say. Instead, he held her, letting her pour out her tears. Minutes later her breathing was steady again and he felt her sigh deeply against him, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. “There’s one thing I’ve been wondering all day though…”

  
  


“What’s that?” He peered at her. She leaned her head slightly and gazed into his emerald eyes.

  
  


"You  _ and _ me... Is this real or am I dreaming?" He could see the anxiety in her hazel eyes as she asked that. He thought of several responses, each of them quite cheesy. He thought of proclaiming his love and adoration for her with an impromptu speech. But all he did was take one of her hands and hold it for a while before she placed it on his chest next to where her cheek rested and where his heart could be found. Then slowly he moved his head down to tenderly kiss her forehead. She sighed and closed her eyes, peace and affection washing over her like the gentle waves on the shore. He felt her relax more. The gesture was more than enough. 

  
  


“There’s nothing more real in my life than this feeling Hermione…” He told her just as the clock on the mantelpiece began to chime marking midnight. "Merry Christmas."

  
  
  


"Merry Christmas, Harry." More together than they ever were, the two drifted off to sleep.

  
  


…

  
  


Came Christmas morning and as if by a stroke of magic Harry Potter found himself awake before his bushy-haired best friend, her brown curls spread across her pillow and tickling his nose. His vision was still hazy so he reached next to his pillow for his spectacles. As he did, it seemed the entire world was brand new to him. They’d forgotten to draw the heavy curtains last night and so Hermione’s rooms were awash with the lavender hues of the rising sun. The fire had gone out sometime in the early hours, but though crisp and cold, they were warm and cozy under her piles of soft cotton duvets. Hermione’s scent of vanilla and paper that always clung to her were like heaven and Harry couldn’t help but throw his head back onto his pillow and smile contentedly.

  
  


It was then that he heard the familiar sound of a flutter of feathers, followed by soft hooting and the rattling of a metal cage. Those noises brought back memories of his old and beloved friend Hedwig, who would do the same kind of things during their mornings at Privet Drive, anxious to be let out and also for attention. He thought he was probably still half-asleep and imagining things until he heard those sounds again and again. Harry knit his eyebrows in confusion and gathered all of his strength and will-power to slip out of bed. As the sitting area and majestic-looking Christmas came into view his seeker eyes immediately caught sight of a beautiful owl sitting in a gilded cage.

  
  


Harry blinked for a moment not quite believing his eyes before the owl’s clever eyes met with his and she tilted her head, hooting directly at him and then tapping the lock of the cage with her toe.

  
  


“Alright, alright…” He finally said to her as he came closer, sitting himself before the cage in order to turn the key in the lock and open its door. Immediately the creature flew out, barely escaping impact with his shoulder. She flew about the room, taking advantage of the tall vaulted ceilings until she came down and landed directly on his shoulder. Harry was careful not to move so as not to spook her, but then the lovely owl nibbled his ear in a gentle manner and snuggled into his neck. “Aren’t you a flirt… What’s your name, little one…” He cooed at her with a smile.

  
  


“It’s yours to give…” He heard, coming from behind him. Hermione watched him with a knowing grin and a twinkle in her eyes, folding her arms across her chest. “I wanted to give you something special… I hope I wasn’t too forward what with Hedwig and everything…” She trailed off, biting her lower lip as she often did when nervous.

  
  


Harry looked at his beautiful new owl and then at his beautiful friend, his love, and he couldn’t help but smile.

  
  


“She’s perfect Hermione, absolutely perfect… I-I don’t think I’d have the courage to get a new one myself, but honestly, I couldn’t be happier… She could never replace Hedwig,” he said, petting his Christmas gift, her white feathers soft and her light-brown tale with little gray specs trailing behind and to the side of her, “but it doesn’t mean we won’t love each other as much as Hedwig and I did.” Hermione nodded, a slight bit of relief washing over her.

  
  


“In that case, Potter… Another wish of Merry Christmas is in order.” She walked towards him and sat across from him by the pile of gifts. “So, what names are you thinking?”

  
  


Harry rolled his eyes at her impatience, though it was endearing. He looked into Hermione’s eyes, their shade of light-brown with specks of gold and amber, her hair of such a soft brown they were the color of hazelnuts. And then it struck him, his owl’s tale was also the color of hazelnuts and he honestly couldn’t think of a sweeter or lovelier name.

  
  


“Hazel.” He said as he looked at the creature who once again fluttered her feathers and nibbled his ear. “Oh, you like it don’t you, girl? See Hermione, Hazel it is.”

  
  


“Hazel is lovely…” Harry saw her eyes go over the few packages under their Christmas tree and he couldn’t help but chuckle. Her curiosity would one day get the best of her and only he knew how anxious she’d been yesterday to know what he’d gotten her. Harry located the smallest box in the pile, wrapped in shiny red and green paper and with a lovely bow. He looked at it for a moment before handing it to Hermione.

  
  


“I hope you like it… I found it at an antique jeweler’s in Diagon Alley… You immediately sprung to mind.” Hermione carefully removed the paper and then examined the leather case with golden hook. Opening it revealed a silver necklace with a both delicate and stunning pendant just larger than a one pound coin. It was delicate and definitely vintage looking, with ornate hour and minute handles with tiny blue gems on the tips. “Oh, those two sapphires were part of a bigger stone that belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw herself… Or so I was told.” Hermione took it out of its casing, her heart warmed by his gesture, as he must have put a lot of thought into her present this year, especially when in the past he’d only given her books.

  
  


“It’s gorgeous Harry… I love it.” She bit her bottom lip as a smile began to curve the corner of her lips.

  
  


“Oh, perhaps turn it around?” Harry suggested, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. “I’ve had something engraved in those pretty elaborate letters…” Hermione turned it over and indeed found a lovely, if cheesy inscription, though it utterly melted her heart. Had he been planning all this, all along?

  
  


**_‘I love you more with every passing second’_ **

  
  


“ _ Oh, Harry! _ ” She said with emotion in her voice, not minding Hazel the owl as she threw her arms around his neck, prompting the creature to fly off and perch herself on the back of a chair. “I shall wear it always…” She motioned for Harry to help her put it on, turning her back to him and holding her curls in a pile atop her head. Harry hooked it diligently. The soft and ticklish brush of his fingertips at the nape of her neck made Hermione shiver out of pleasure. Harry, once again enraptured by her delicious scent and the tingles that her touch now elicited on his skin couldn’t help the urge to press a kiss at the curve of her neck. It surprised Hermione, who released a small gasp before relaxing her shoulders and pressing her back into his chest.

  
  


“I hope you know you’re never getting rid of me…” He whispered into her ear. Hermione responded with a raspy chuckle, her heart overflowing with happiness.

  
  


“ _ Oh _ , but that’s the best Christmas gift one could ever hope to receive.” She turned to look at him, her eyes shining beautifully, cheeks rosy, wild curls framing her features like a lion’s mane. Hermione Granger was the most beautiful Harry had ever seen her in that moment when he leaned in for their first Christmas day kiss. “I dare say, I think I’m falling in love with you, Harry.” He rolled his eyes and chuckled.

  
  


“Oh, I  _ know _ that you are.”

**Author's Note:**

> The best Christmas gifts ever will be your reviews ;)


End file.
